


Distractions

by aysera (jive)



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gender-Neutral Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Multi, POV Second Person, Patch 5.0: Shadowbringers Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-21 14:14:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20694881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jive/pseuds/aysera
Summary: Hades insists that he spends no more time with you than he does with Hythlodaeus, and you likely spend more time with Hythlodaeus in your spare time than you do with himself. But you know as well as he does that the time you two share together is distinctly different than the time you spend with other people. It’s just a matter of acknowledging that unspoken understanding.





	Distractions

**Author's Note:**

> A part of (what I hope will eventually be) a collection of short stories set in Amaurot way before the Sundering ever happens, posted in reverse-chronological order.

Hades loses track of the times he meets you after that night; and you do as well, for the two of you are nigh inseparable from then on. Somehow, some way - despite the vastness of the city, how numerous its citizens, how busy each of your days are with your own projects - the two of you always seem to find each other. Nary a week passes where one of you hasn't spent time in the other's space - be it assisting each other in your offices, a chance meeting as the two of you are strolling along the streets, or even lazing about on that small patch of lawn that your bout of uncontrolled magic has turned into a small flower bed - and you think nothing of it. Truth be told, you do not even notice the ever so steadily growing gravitation between the two of you until Hythlodaeus mentions it in passing one day.

You have no idea what he's talking about, nor what he's implying, and you say as such. He merely responds with a thoughtful hum, his ever-present smile now turned almost impish and knowing all the while. "Ah, nevermind then," he says, "Just idle observations is all."

But the seed of thought is planted in your mind nevertheless, and later that evening, when you lay your head to rest and close your eyes, a familiar figure occupies your mind. You think of Hades, and are all of a sudden far too aware of his presence within your thoughts. You try to think of something else, anything else, and it's impossible. When was it that you went to bed thinking of anything other than Hades? You struggle to recall when it was exactly, but the more you think about it, the more you stew and contemplate the trajectory of your thoughts as of late the less his persistent presence within your mind bothers you. If anything, it's welcomed. You realize now, more than you ever did before, that your soul feels lighter when you think of him. Your heart skips in your chest, and you reflect on Hythlodaeus' teasing. It takes several moments of your mind flickering between Hythlodaeus and Hades, thoughts spinning round and round until it all focuses back onto Hades himself.

And it's then you realize what Hythlodaeus had seen all along.

_ Oh. So that's it. _

You think of Hades again, and your heart echoes itself again, thump thump thumping in affirmation to your thoughts.

You rest a little more soundly that night.

It isn't until several days later that you mention Hythlodaeus' observation to Hades - but not of your own realization, of course - as you're aiding him with his current project. Though your assistance is - as it is now - often nothing more than simply observing Hades as he works, he has never once scolded you for your presence. There's a small fluttering in your chest, and a brief flash of heat that flashes on your face as you realize that, and recall the countless times he's chased others out for "loitering about” while he’s working. For some reason, he tolerates your presence more than any other. Perhaps he sees you in the same special way that you see him.

You hope. 

You're unsure.

But you hope, nevertheless.

Hades insists that he spends no more time with you than he does with Hythlodaeus, and you likely spend more time with Hythlodaeus in your spare time than you do with himself. But you know as well as he does that the time you two share together is distinctly different than the time you spend with other people. It’s just a matter of acknowledging that unspoken understanding. The warmth that blossoms outward from within your breast, that fills your body with nervous flutters, and only ever seems to make its presence known whenever you're near him is clear proof of that. You wonder if he experiences the same thing as you do, if the same eager, restless nervousness that keeps your heart beating so erratically plagues him as well. 

You sneak a glimpse at him and try to focus your vision. Perhaps there is something there, normally unseen, that would at least sate your curious mind. Your eyes may not be as keen as those of Hades or Hythlodaeus, but you'd like to think that in some of those dear, precious moments in time where the mere ilms between you two feel too great a distance - like now, for instance - you can see a fluttering to his aether as well. You attempt to try to see that delicate waver now, straining the limits of your sight, but your focus is broken as Hades turns his head and glances at you.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" he asks, the corners of his lips turned down in that particular, tell-tale way that they do whenever he's embarrassed about something. Perhaps he had felt your gaze boring into him somehow, and it left him all of a sudden too conscious of your presence to continue his work properly.

"No reason," you reply simply. A smile threatens to make its way onto your face, and you lift a hand to cover it, knowing how it would only serve to agitate him even more. You pointedly look elsewhere, feigning innocence. "I was simply admiring how beautifully the aether flows as you work. It's art."

A lie, in a way, but still the absolute truth. He's breathtaking and brilliant when he works, focused and confident, wonderous and precise; there's a golden glow to his aether that even you, with your weaker sight, can see as he manipulates the free-flowing aether which gathers in the atmosphere. Hades at work is a wonder to behold, and each time you are able to see it up close like this is breathtaking and a moment you cherish deeply.

His frown deepens as he realizes the truth - or lack thereof - in your words, and he turns his head away pointedly. You can see the tips of his ears redden and flush beneath the fluffy white locks of his hair, and your smile only grows wider behind your hand. Hades absolutely refuses to look at you, and you can feel the barest bit of faltering in his aether's movement as he undoubtedly hears the small, quiet giggle you let out upon seeing him so uncharacteristically flustered. 

Hythlodaeus was right, it is far too amusing to tease Hades when all that is required are words of earnest, whole-hearted praise - things which you can so easily, naturally, and freely give to him unprompted - and just a bit more close attention than he is used to. But quickly, you move to lend your aid in the project's creation in the hopes of quelling his brief indignation and appeasing him enough to turn his focus back onto his task instead of yourself. Your aether flows from your being, extending beyond your fingertips to weave into the air. You can vaguely see that pale blue shimmer of your own magics flickering about, almost dancing alongside shining, golden wisps, and the warmth in your chest glows again.

"You are a distraction," you hear him mutter suddenly. There is no malice in his voice, no harshness, no bitter, nothing to indicate that he was in any way, shape, or form actually angry with you. He stops what he's doing, turning towards you, but still refusing to meet your gaze.

"I am? How so?" you ask. Confusion colors your face, and though he can see but a portion of your face thanks to your mask, the slight frown you bear is enough indication that his words baffle you.

"You call my work beautiful. You call it 'art'," he says, speaking slowly. He's choosing his words carefully and intentionally, in a way you'd never seen him do before. He seems uncharacteristically unsure of himself, and unfortunately for you - you who is always ever conscious of the emotional state of others - the wariness spreads to you as well. He refuses to meet your gaze still, and it pains you a little to not be able to see the beautiful golden hue of his eyes. 

You stay quiet, merely nodding in affirmation.

"It's distracting to be complimented in such a way," he continues. He sounds frustrated. You open your mouth, ready to tease him again, to fluster him even further, to draw out even more charming reactions from him, but his sudden gaze pins you in place and robs you of your ability to speak. The mask may hide much of his face, but his eyes are clear as day. He's looking right at you, gaze steady and fierce and full of a determination that you'd never seen before, such a stark contrast to the ruddiness of what parts of his cheeks you can glimpse behind his mask.

A lump forms in your throat. Your pulse quickens. You try to remember how to breathe. His sudden serious intensity is intimidating, to say the absolute least, and it has you moving to take a step backwards. 

But Hades reaches his hand out before you can even move an ilm away from you, catching you by the wrist, his grip firm but gentle as he tugs you back. He takes a step forward, and the distance between the two of you shrinks until the hems of your robes are barely brushing against each other. Your cheeks heat under his unyielding gaze, heart fluttering like a whirlwind of butterflies are trapped within your chest. What does he intend to do? What is he trying to say?

"...especially when the compliments are far more befitting of the person uttering them," Hades finishes. Your own pulse is nearly deafening in your ears. You can feel your cheeks burning now. Was he…?

"It's aggravating, you know, to realize how deeply I've come to care for you, and how distracting it is to have you occupying my thoughts so often," the words rumble from his lips, and you can barely focus on them with how much you're struggling to hold yourself together. His other hand lifts to cup your cheek, his fingertips barely grazing the edge of where your flesh and your mask meet. A shiver threatens to run up your spine at that, but somehow, you're able to temper it and fight the urge off.

"I could say the same for you as well, you know." A reply slips from your mouth before you even have a chance to stop them. You see Hades' scowl shift at your teasing words, and his eyes widen slightly in surprise. 

"Oh?" 

"Indeed! You're far more distracting and aggravating than I am, what with you being so… you. So insufferably brilliant." You're too flustered by his closeness, his actions, his tenderness to form coherent thought and sentences. It's unfair. "However, despite that… It seems that I've come to care for you as well." 

There's a pause after you finish uttering your own confession, and Hades seems to have been thrown off-guard, as if he wasn't expecting your response at all. It takes him a moment, to let your words sink in. And when it does, all the tension in the air seems to dissipate all at once. 

He lets out a large sigh of relief, and you do too, unconscious of the fact that you'd been holding your breath in that stretch of silence as well. Your unoccupied hand reaches up to rest atop his, pressing that warm and gentle palm more firmly against your face. You see him visibly relax now, and you do as well. There are smiles beaming from both of your faces now, 

"Lucky you, then, to have such an insufferably brilliant distraction," Hades says beneath his breath. He leans down into your space, closing what little distance there is left between the two of you. And you let him. There is a soft clunk when your masks meet each other, barriers blocking where your foreheads would otherwise meet. You've never wanted to remove your own mask - let alone someone else's - as much as you do now.

"Shut up and kiss me already, you fool," comes your reply.

You lean up into him, and he obliges, meeting your lips with his.

For a while, the two of you are each other's distractions, and it's far from aggravating at all.

**Author's Note:**

> @holyspamming on twitter


End file.
